


The Mission

by Calico (Calico321)



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Day 1 target;child, Gen, Mandothon2020, Pre-Season 1, The Mandalorian Ficathon 2020, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23455786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calico321/pseuds/Calico
Summary: Din goes on an important mission for the covert.==“You understand your mission?”“Yes, alor,” he responded. “I’m ready to leave now.”“I don’t need to tell you how important this is?”“No. I will not fail you.”“It is not me who you would be failing."
Comments: 20
Kudos: 40
Collections: The Mandalorian Ficathon — April 2020





	The Mission

**Author's Note:**

> Submission for the Day 1 general prompt for The Mandalorian Ficathon https://mandothon.tumblr.com/

“ _Beroya_!”

The Mandalorian once known as Din Djarin stepped into the forge and inclined his head slightly towards the armorer. “Yes, _alor_?”

“You understand your mission?”

“Yes, _alor_ ,” he responded. “I’m ready to leave now.”

“I don’t need to tell you how important this is?”

“No. I will not fail you.”

“It is not _me_ who you would be failing,” she said crisply in that voice that could be chiding or teasing in equal measure. Not that he would ever describe the armorer as teasing, but she did sometimes seem to hide a dry wit behind her bronze helmet. It was one of her greatest gifts in keeping her often volatile covert in check; no one could really tell where they stood with her. Best to simply obey all instructions, follow the Creed to the letter, and never assume anything.

“It will be done, _alor_ ,” he assured her.

“Very well, you should be going then. Time is of the essence.” She handed him a pouch of credits, which he deposited into a slot on his belt. He once again lowered his head in deference and touched his fist to his chest in salute. Then he turned around and walked out.

He was near the exit when a gruff voice called out, “Djarin.”

Din sighed. One of the benefits of being tasked as the covert’s income source was being away most of the time. Din felt a great sense of honor in being a Mandalorian; he was, however, less enthusiastic about being around other Mandalorians.

Paz Vizla, leader of the infantry unit, stalked towards him. Paz was tall and broad and made a point in towering directly over Din. Paz did not like Din. Din did not care about that. What he did care about was his time, and this was wasting it. “I’m on a time crunch,” Din said, hoping to put the big man off.

“I know,” Vizla said with disdain. “I just wanted to make sure you get this right.”

Din sighed and rolled his head towards Vizla, not bothering to hide his irritation. “You really think I can’t handle this?” That was a bad idea, and Din knew it as soon as the words left his mouth.

“You hear that, boys,” Vizla mocked over his shoulder and several infantrymen standing against the wall behind him chuckled. “Our bounty hunter thinks he’s too good for this job.”

“That’s not what I said,” Din said, jaw tense. Deep down he knew the aggression was a product of the men being stuck underground indefinitely. They were itchy to flex their muscles and fire their weapons. Hiding underground was no way for a Mandalorian to live. He made himself relax in empathy. “I know how important it is. I won’t let the covert down. This is the Way.”

Vizla stood straighter. Beyond all his bravado, Paz Vizla knew the Way better than any of them, to his very core. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” the others murmured.

Din nodded to them. “I’ll be back soon. Every thing will be perfect.”

With that he swept out. He passed by the bar that served as the Guild headquarters without stopping. He wouldn’t be picking up any pucks for this run. In the ‘Crest, he quickly initiated the ignition sequence and lifted out of the atmosphere. He didn’t have far to go, and a quick hyper jump later had him landing on a moon in the Cadeus system.

Din set down in a starport of medium size, paid a berth fee for the afternoon and headed into the bustling town square. Cadeus IV had virtually no residential population; it however boasted merchants from nearly every system in the galaxy, selling anything imaginable. Beings came from all over to do nothing more than spend money. The wealthy would make a sport of impulse shopping. Those of lesser means searched for specific items or sought make use of the competitive atmosphere to get the most value from their currency of choose.

Din knew what he needed and found the first store quickly. He entered and spoke with the shopkeeper, giving very specific instructions. The shopkeeper made quick notes and nodded enthusiastically. Din handed him credits and was told to return in three hours.

Din left the shop and walked several meters looking for his next target. A brightly-colored sign drew him into another store. The clerk behind the counter blanched slightly at his interest, but he only nodded and perused the shelving. This purchase was the more delicate of his mission. He had been given only the vaguest instructions, told to use his own judgment.

He picked up an item. He looked at it with an objective eye and shook his head. He picked up another – too small. Another – too large. Din sighed and moved down the shelf.

“C-can I help you?” the clerk asked timidly from the end of the aisle.

“Hmm. What do you think of this?” he asked holding up an item.

The clerk blinked at him. “For you?”

Din growled softly, but swallowed it down. “No.”

“Oh, well that is a popular choice. It’s from a holo-vid serial. One of my best sellers, in fact. Can’t go wrong with it.” The clerk smiled knowingly.

Din eyed it again. “Alright, I’ll take it. Can you wrap it up?”

“Certainly, sir.”

After browsing a few weapon sellers, enough time had passed and Din was able to revisit the first shop to pick up his order. The shopkeeper smiled happily as he handed him the rectangular box. Din opened it up, found the contents satisfactory, and thanked the shopkeeper, who waved him off cheerfully.

Din stowed the items safely in a compartment in the ‘Crest and made the return trip to Nevarro. The sun was setting as he landed; he would make it just in time. He gathered his purchases and walked quickly to the bizarre. Eyes followed him with a variety of looks – from horror, to amusement, to disbelief. As usual, he didn’t bother to dwell on it. Walking the Way of the Mandalore meant putting aside the insecurities of the self in service of the Tribe; Din did that very well.

He took turns, doubled back when necessary, and when he was certain no eyes were on him, entered the secret entrance and walked down the stairs to the sewer hideout.

He walked to the large room set aside as a communal gathering place, which was full to near capacity. Adults stood around the perimeter as the foundlings and creed-born children sat together at a central table. They were in full spirit, all seemingly talking or laughing at the same time. At his entrance, all turned to face him. The children screeched in glee and ran to him jumping up and down. A little girl of about four with dark blonde hair pushed through and reached up to him. “You got it?” she squeaked.

“I did, _ad’ika_. Your favorite, chocolate.” He handed her the square box and she giggled triumphantly.

The armorer appeared at her side as if from the air itself and plucked the box out of the child’s hands. “I don’t think so,” she said with a softness rarely heard in the forge.

“ _Buir_ , please, I want some,” the child wheedled. The rest of the children echoed the sentiment loudly.

“You will all get a piece of cake. Patience, a _de_.” The armorer handed the box off to another Mandalorian to carefully cut and distribute slices of the confection. The armorer turned back to Din. “And the other?” she asked.

He handed her the second, wrapped package. “I’m assured it’s very popular.”

“Hmm,” she replied. “I trust your judgment, _beroya_.”

She walked to the table and placed the package in front of the little girl, who already had chocolate cake smeared over her face. “Happy birthday, _cyar’ika_ ,” the armorer said and placed a hand on the girl’s head.

The happy child took the package and ripped open the wrapping. Inside she found a doll about half her height, with black string hair and blue painted eyes. She wore a flight costume and came with a removable helmet. “I love her!” the girl shrieked and hugged it to her chest. “Thank you, _buir_!” She jumped up and threw her arms around the armorer.

The armorer turned and nodded a thanks to Din. He nodded in return and then backed out of the room. It was time to visit Greef and get back to work; the covert needed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando’a translations:
> 
> beroya - bounty hunter  
> alor - leader  
> ad’ika - little one, child  
> ade - children  
> buir - parent  
> cyar’ika - darling, sweetheart


End file.
